Rasorite
by Imperial Mint
Summary: Ace is undeniably attracted to his father's pool boy, Marco. Things only get worse when Ace is told not to 'fraternise' with the 'staff', and when it turns out Marco isn't really staff anyway, there's a whole extra layer of problems to wade through. MarcoAce
**Pairing: Ace/Marco**

This got a bit long to post comfortably on tumblr. The song that inspired this was Magnets by Disclosure ft. Lorde and this is forlollesss! This is also unbetaed so any mistakes are my own!

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Ace didn't even want to be here, that was what he kept telling himself. He didn't want to be at his dad's place, not now, not ever. Ace would be happy if he never had to see Roger again, but Dadan had gotten pissed off too many times, Garp just laughed and shook his head, and Ace wasn't allowed to stay alone over the summer. The university had specified that, particularly after the prank he, Luffy and Sabo had pulled at the end of the year. If Ace wanted to have any hope of graduating next year, he had to follow strict rules and one of those was returning to his family home.

Rolling his eyes, Ace sank lower in his chair, abandoning the crappy magazine in his lap. It was about 1 in the afternoon now, and he slipped his sunglasses on, sipping at his drink as he looked out over the pool.

Admittedly, there were a few perks to having a rather notorious father. Sure Ace hated him for being involved with criminal organisations and whatnot (he refused to use the word pirate, despite that being what Roger was), but the perks were pretty sweet. His father's house was huge, and it had a few pools, all that needed regular tending by someone. And that someone was a very, very attractive pool boy. He couldn't be much older than Ace, Ace reckoned, and he took very good care of himself. He always had a smile for Ace, and wasn't shy to come and discuss things.

Right on time, Marco walked into view. He was wearing flip flops, shorts (that were almost scandalously short, but Ace really didn't mind) and a tank top that flashed quite a nice patch of skin, including the huge tattoo on Marco's chest.

"Hey," Marco greeted as he moved to the pool shed, preparing to get whatever he needed out. Some days he'd clean the pool (for a second time, Marco was always here early to clean them) and others he'd just tidy up the garden, but he always made sure to come and see Ace.

"Hi," Ace replied, raking his eyes up and down Marco's body behind his sunglasses. He smiled, pushing his magazine aside and stretching slightly. And if Ace had gone a little heavy on the sun lotion to make his chest particularly shiny and attractive, Marco would never know.

They exchanged some small talk, as they always did, and lapsed into silence as Marco began work. He was trimming some of the plants around the pool area, and Ace watched for a while, wondering how much trouble he'd get in if he propositioned Marco.

His father would be furious, Ace knew that much. Roger had tried to get him to promise not to 'try it on' with anyone, especially not staff. Ace understood why, but he didn't think that was particularly fair. And he knew Marco was interested, feeling the dip in his stomach whenever Marco looked at him, heat in his gaze. There was no way Marco could look at him, linger around him, if he felt nothing.

Ace had promised not to antagonise anyone. He'd promised his school he'd get along with his father, lay low until the police were satisfied he wasn't a danger to society, and keep himself out of trouble. Fucking the pool boy his dad had employed (a pool boy Ace was beginning to think was less innocent than he looked) probably wasn't on the list of keeping himself out of trouble.

"Your father's holding a party tomorrow night, isn't he?" Marco asked suddenly, and Ace felt his cheeks heat, caught staring at Marco.

"Yeah," he muttered, mood dampening with the thought of the gathering. Its main purpose was to remind everyone that Roger was rich as fuck and controlled a lot of shit, essentially. The secondary purpose was to show Ace off, as if he'd enter the family business to follow in Roger's footsteps. That would never happen, Roger knew it too, but his competitors didn't.

The condition was that after the party, Ace could leave. He'd readily agreed, though now he knew Marco was here, his enthusiasm wasn't as great as it could have been.

"You don't sound as if you're excited," Marco commented with a smirk, and Ace threw his sunglasses onto the chair beside him, sighing.

"Not really," Ace said, and Marco stood up, brushing bits of plant off of his legs.

"I'll be there," Marco commented, and Ace would bet his life that he followed the words with a wink. It was cheesy, it was ridiculous, but it caused Ace to smile, and he nodded, picking up his magazine again, the picture of nonchalance. Perhaps tomorrow night wouldn't be so terrible after all.

.

Suits were far from what Ace would choose to wear, but circumstances dictated he wear one, and so he was. He looked good, Ace knew, and he couldn't help his wandering eye, hoping Marco had seen him. He had no idea if Marco was here (and all Ace could imagine wearing were his work clothes), but he hoped to see him soon.

Roger laughed, drawing Ace's attention back to the conversation. It seemed to be genuine, the laugh, and Ace took in the man capable of such a feat. Whitebeard was his name, a pirate alias if Ace ever did know one, and he was a huge man, though with a kind face. There was something about him, and Ace narrowed his eyes, trying to figure it out.

There was a pause in the conversation, and Ace looked over the room, eyebrows rising as he finally found Marco. He was dressed smartly, bright blue silk shirt making him noticeable in the crowd. He had a woman on his arm, and Ace felt a drop of panic flow through him. Was she Marco's girlfriend? His wife?

The woman shook her head, smile crossing her lips, before she parted from Marco's side.

It wasn't long before Ace found himself filling the gap she had left, ignoring the thunderous look Roger shot him on his departure.

"You smarten up well," Ace commented, and Marco nodded, giving Ace a thoughtful look.

"As do you," he said quietly, and there was something in his voice that sent shivers running down Ace's spine. In the best of ways.

"So how does the pool boy end up getting an invitation to a party like this?" Ace couldn't help but ask. There was a look of surprise on Marco's face before he schooled it, stepping closer into Ace's space. He was warm and Ace could smell his cologne, something deep, rich and musky, and Ace would happily remain by Marco's side until the end of the night.

"I thought you knew," Marco said, but he shrugged, eyes darting around before he lowered his head a little, just he could speak for Ace's ears only.

"I'm on a loan from Whitebeard. As a gesture of goodwill, Whitebeard sent me over to work for Roger. Roger sent a few of his men over too, this party is a celebration of that fact. I'm going back home tomorrow though," Marco said, and Ace nodded, everything finally making sense.

And it was clear that, despite an alliance and swapping of men, Roger didn't trust them. He'd warned Ace off of fraternising with them, and it wasn't just because they were the staff. Roger didn't want Ace around Whitebeard's men, and certainly not in any romantic or sexual nature.

Marco's appeal definitely doubled with that fact, and Ace looked away, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself asking whether Marco would like to go back to his room.

If Ace crossed the line Roger had set out, there would be no going back. An uneasy truce could easily be scuppered if Ace and Marco did anything, but that just made Ace want it even more. Marco's hand brushed his, and Ace looked into his eyes, the decision made before either of them could reject the thought.

"This way," Ace said, looking away before he did something he'd regret in front of everyone.

They didn't last long, though. Ace led them out of the room and down a corridor, where Marco span him slightly, pulling Ace against him as he leant back on the wall. With a grin, Ace pinned Marco, kissing him how he'd wanted to all week, a deep kiss that drew the breath from them, hands tangled in each other's hair.

They pulled back when they heard a door slam somewhere, both grinning like schoolchildren. Ace pulled Marco along again, his bedroom not far away.

"I've wanted to do this for such a long time," Marco said as they entered Ace's room, Ace treading backwards, throwing his clothes over his shoulder. "I thought if any night might be my lucky night then this one might," he continued, voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"Good," Ace said, grabbing Marco's shirt and pulling him close. "I want this to be something we never forget."

No matter what happened, this was something neither of them could deny themselves. There was no returning from this, but Ace knew he would never want to, even if they had the option.

.

It had taken three years of negotiations and proving that he was up to following the family business before Ace was allowed to move towards his goal. In truth, he didn't care about Roger or his business. He'd grown to care about the people under Roger's protection (and if the family business did fall to him then Ace thought he might like to raise the black flag himself), but there was another reason he'd fought so hard to get Roger to trust him.

Aside from a handful of meetings throughout the years, Ace hadn't seen Marco since the night they spent together. It was more than Marco, though, if Ace was honest. The partnership between Whitebeard and Roger had crumbled after a few months, nothing to do with Ace and Marco's actions, and Ace wanted to restore it. So many people could do with the protection, and Ace didn't want to let the opportunity slip by. He admired Whitebeard. Roger had let the alliance fall into ruin, but Ace had something bigger in mind.

It was a crisp morning when he walked towards the harbour. Roger had given his blessing (something Ace needed or else the plan was useless), and Ace was off. The Moby Dick had come to port the night before, and Ace strode confidently towards it, bright hat for all to see.

He wasn't surprised when Marco shouted down to him from the side of the ship, whistling. Ace looked up with a mildly irritated stare, though he couldn't hold it long enough for it to be convincing.

"I have a proposition," Ace called, and Marco vanished, appearing a minute or so later, running towards Ace. His shirt was open and while he wasn't wearing anything as scandalous as those tiny shorts (which he'd later admitted – red faced and shaking his head - he only wore in front of Ace, embarrassingly getting changed before and after working around him), he looked good. Really good.

"Eager," Ace said cheekily, and Marco shrugged.

"I'm sure you know how things are," he replied, and Ace did indeed know how things were. It was quite possible they had ruined each other for anyone else – and that was completely fine.

"I have an offer for Whitebeard," Ace said, bumping shoulders gently with Marco as they walked. "Some might call it him loaning me for a job," he said, and Marco hummed.

"I still have those pool shorts if you'd like them," Marco said, and Ace laughed.

"Save them for later," Ace said, and Marco nodded dutifully, directing Ace towards the Moby Dick with a flourish.

This was it, Ace thought. This was the start of a new era for him, an era where he worked towards peace with Whitebeard, and his own happiness with Marco. Excitement coiled inside of him, and Ace knew great things were ahead of them.

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